


Barber Shop

by Jenny_Starseed



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Starseed/pseuds/Jenny_Starseed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Sherlock, there were more productive to cure chronic emotional exhaustion that does not include bad telly and crisps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barber Shop

“John. John. John!”

Now what? What on earth did Sherlock want? If only the git would stop prodding his shoulder like it was a plate of cold jelly with his finger, everything would be fine, John thought uncharitably. John Watson was having a perfectly good lie in, lying despondently in front of the telly, watching...what as he watching? Big Brother. It was a draining week, it was flu season at the clinic and John had just finished a very tearful intervention with Harry today. He was emotionally and physically exhausted and what the fuck did Sherlock want?

“Go away Sherlock.”

Great, the man was now blocking his view. Hasn’t John earned the right to sit and watch crap telly? Watching being a very loose term. Did it still count as watching if you weren’t paying any attention to it?

“You’ve been sitting there for four hours,” Sherlock replied stiffly. “I have never seen you watch so much crap telly before. It’s frankly a little unsettling.”

Oh, that’s the end of it! If Sherlock wants his reasons for watching crap telly, he’s going to give them right between his eyes.

“Unsettling is it?” challenged John, he could feel his voice rising with anger. “Well, sod off. I’ve had a tiring week. An endless parade of entitled children and their hypochondriac mothers, asking if their little Johnny has some kind of unknown form of avian flu and did I know the symptoms of avian flu? Not to mention, Harry was this close from pickling her liver this month and I had to take time off work, meet up with her wife, my mom and dad and various frustrated friends to get Harry to get into rehab. And the temper tantrum she threw! And I thought I was going to go to tears myself, but I couldn’t with mum and Clara doing all the crying for me. So Sherlock, if I wanted lie here and watch crap telly, I think I’ve earned the right to rot my own brain.”

He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. He looked up and there was Sherlock, crouched in front of him with a look of dismay on his face. He stood up, retrieved John’s coat and handed it to him.

“Come on John. We’re going down to the Barber shop. Anthony gives a wonderful face massage after a traditional shave. With a straight razor, not a pitiful electric razor.”

“A Barbershop?”

“You’ve never been to one?” Sherlock asked with a surprised expression. He gave John a quick grin. “Oh good, a new minor indulgence for you to explore, it will be much better than crap telly and salty crisps. You’ll like it; it’s an old fashioned Barber shop, not one of those minimalist posh monstrosities. It still retains its original Edwardian decor, my father used to go there when he felt like the world was a bit too much for him.”

John reluctantly got off the couch and put on his coat. “You’re paying, right?”

“Of course,” said Sherlock as he buttoned up his coat. “It’s the least I can do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a sherlockbbc_fic prompt asking for an emotionally exhausted John finding a way to relax.
> 
> And none of the characters are mine. Unbeta-ed and unbrit-picked.


End file.
